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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24742951">A Wish for the Queen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girlblunder/pseuds/Girlblunder'>Girlblunder</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Huntsman (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/F, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:15:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24742951</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girlblunder/pseuds/Girlblunder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time deep in the heart of the Forgotten Mountain, there lived a Queen…</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Freya/Sara (The Huntsman)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Wish for the Queen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yo, dawg, I heard you liked Fantasy. So here we have a Fantasy AU of a Fantasy movie, done all fairy tale like.</p><p>(Don't mind me, I've been living in another dimension for the last month and a half.)</p><p>Unbeta'd. Didn't really look it over for mistakes. I'm sure it's not too terrible. Probably.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>The first time the girl arrives, Freya cannot know how long it’s been since she was last awake. The throne room, long cold and dark, is exactly the same as it was before.</p><p>Whether a season or an eternity, neither matters. Time only exists in blinks for her.</p><p>The enchanted sconces have flickered to life, their cool violet flames kind to Freya’s unused eyes. As her vision slowly returns, she examines the dim cavern beyond the throne room. There is no movement.</p><p>Quiet, muffled sobs reach her ears first.</p><p>She contemplates attempting to move from her throne—white stone carved from the mountain itself—but it must have been a while since the last time because her body refuses to obey her.</p><p>With a sigh, she remains seated.</p><p>“Child?” she idly guesses. “Why do you cry?”</p><p>The low sobs abruptly cease.</p><p>“‘m not a child.”</p><p>“Is that so?” Freya is surprised when she feels the urge to smile. Though the muscles in her face are too stiff from disuse to do so, she enjoys the momentary amusement.</p><p>A vague figure moves at the very entrance of the hall. She waits patiently as it draws nearer and nearer.</p><p>The figure of a frail-seeming girl is slowly revealed, though she is older than Freya had expected. She’s mostly skin and bone, though her cheeks remain full in only the way youth allows.</p><p>Dressed in dark leathers and boots that have been patched more times than Freya has time to count, the girl stops just shy of entering the throne room. She fidgets with the edges of her worn grey cloak.</p><p>Freya tries to consider what the room, faintly glowing white, blue, and violet in the dark heart of the mountain must seem like to one not used to seeing it. An impossible task, since she’s forgotten what anything else looks like.</p><p>She admires the girl’s caution in a distant way. “You have nothing to fear. The curse upon this place is for me and me alone.”</p><p>“That’s hardly encouraging.”</p><p>Freya stares at her a moment longer. “Suit yourself.” She closes her eyes, anticipating a return to sleep once the girl is gone from the mountain.</p><p>“What sort of curse is it?”</p><p>The question makes Freya tilt her head and once again open her eyes. A greater range of movement is slowly returning, albeit in stages. “I’m afraid I don’t remember exactly.”</p><p>“Then how can you be sure it’s only for you?” The girl persists, absently taking a step into the room.</p><p>Freya’s lips twitch. She can’t be certain in the light, but the girl’s head is topped with waves of fiery red hair, which is messily tied back from her face. “Look around. I am alone. People come and go, yet I remain.”</p><p>The girl takes another step in, cautiously taking in their surroundings.</p><p>The throne room is simple: jagged blue-white pillars frame the snow-carpet that stretches from the entrance to Freya’s raised dais.</p><p>“Is that ice?” the girl asks as she wanders over to one of the pillars.</p><p>“Yes.” Freya can lean forward a little. She wiggles the fingers on her right hand. “Will you tell me why you were crying now?”</p><p>The girl stiffens, the hand that was reaching out to the pillar dropping to her side. Her hands ball into fists. “I wasn’t crying.”</p><p>“Are you always this obstinate?” Freya inquires curiously.</p><p>“Are you always this rude?”</p><p>Freya blinks. “I don’t know.”</p><p>The girl squints, then rubs her face with the back of her wrist. The dried tear tracks remain on her cheeks. “M’ name’s Sara. What’s yours? Do you know that much?”</p><p>Again, Freya’s lips twitch. “Freya, Queen of Nothing.”</p><p>Sara’s brow furrows. She wanders forward several steps and executes a clumsy bow. “Your Majesty.”</p><p>Freya huffs at her mocking tone but sets aside her irritation. “You should know that, if it is in my power to do so, I am bound to help any who enter here.”</p><p>Rather than verbally responding, Sara’s frown deepens. “Seems too good to be true.”</p><p>Several heartbeats pass.</p><p>“Then go,” Freya finally says. “It means nothing to me either way.”</p><p>Sara grunts, then begins to pace from side to side. “Da passed away just before this last spring. It’s been hard on my family. Mum does her best, but she’s not been the same since she gave birth to my smallest brother.”</p><p>As Sara continues to pace, Freya finds herself watching the prints Sara leaves in the snow. As she reaches one pillar, the footsteps disappear behind her—only to be remade moments after.</p><p>“I’m sixteen now, and able to join the hunt.” Sara pauses, her hands once again tightening into fists. “Or I would, if some of the boys hadn’t taken an axe to my bow.”</p><p>Freya almost asks why, but then realizes it doesn’t matter. “If your bow needs mending, I can help you.”</p><p>Sara moves even closer. She stops just below the three steps that lead to the throne and crosses her arms. This close, Freya can see that she hasn’t been eating enough. “What’ll it cost me?” Sara asks after a beat. “I have nothing.”</p><p>“The price is simple. You must share something this bow will give you.”</p><p>Sara’s lips part in surprise. “Is that it? I’ll bring you a fine cut of whatever I down. That, I promise you.”</p><p>Freya finally smiles. Sara’s wide eyes are a pleasant grey-blue. “I cannot eat, but if you consume the token in my presence, the exchange will be complete.”</p><p>Her smile wavers when, for the first time, Sara smiles, too. “Still seems too good to be true, but I’ve nothing to lose.”</p><p>“Go fetch your bow. I will be waiting.”</p><p>Sara isn’t gone long enough for Freya to fall fully back to sleep.</p><p>“It’s not good,” Sara says nervously as she approaches the throne. The old wool cloak she was wearing before has been used to bundle the fragments of the bow. Sara unwraps it. The thick wood seems sturdy, but has been chopped into three pieces. The string that goes with it is completely missing.</p><p>Arms and torso now fully functional, Freya silently reaches out.</p><p>Foot hesitant on the first step, Sara warily approaches. She deposits the cloak and bow to Freya’s lap and moves back several paces.</p><p>Freya flexes her hands in an attempt to limber up before picking up the first two pieces. There are no magic words to be said, but her hands faintly shimmer as she coaxes the wood back together. In a few breaths, the bow is whole.</p><p>“I need a strand of your hair,” Freya absently declares as she plucks one from her own head.</p><p>She glances up. Sara visibly shakes herself, then does as she’s told.</p><p>Freya accepts the red strand, then twists it together with her white one. She closes her eyes and pulls them from both ends. The newly formed bowstring stretches and shines bright blue, then fades to a soft pink. Pleased with her work, she offers both back over to Sara.</p><p>“You must string it yourself. Only you will be able to aim true with this bow, unless you should give it to an heir. It will last until this mountain crumbles into dust.”</p><p>Expression full of awe, Sara could only nod as she expertly looped the string into place. “Thank you, Queen Freya.”</p><p>Unused to hearing the title, Freya can only press her lips together. After a breath, “Don’t forget your promise.”</p><p>She tosses the forgotten cloak to Sara, who immediately pulls it around her shoulders.</p><p>Sara raises the bow and nods. “I won’t.”</p><p>The following day, Sara arrives with a hearty cut of venison and a bounce in her step. “I wish I could truly give you something, Your Majesty. Thanks to you, my family will not starve this winter.”</p><p>When Freya smiles, it’s faint. She’s not sure why, but Sara’s declaration has made her sad. “Thank yourself. I am no hunter. Now, eat. I’d like to sleep again soon, I think.”</p><p>***</p><p>The next time the magic stirs, Freya knows it hasn’t been as nearly as long as the last. She keeps her eyes closed as she senses movement coming closer, closer to the throne room.</p><p>She tilts her head when the silhouette appears beyond the room. The hooded figure steps out onto the clear white snow without hesitation. Surprised, she leans forward.</p><p>The hood of the thick dark cloak is unceremoniously pulled back.</p><p>Freya holds her breath. Though the face is a bit different than she remembers—the plump layer of youth has been replaced by strong lines of maturity—there is no mistaking the bright red hair and shimmering grey-blue eyes.</p><p>“Sara?” she asks quietly. In all her years granting requests, she’s never seen the same person twice. Though details of the curse are foggy in her memory, she knows only the lost may find her in this forgotten place.</p><p>Sara smiles, but she doesn’t look happy. “Your Majesty, I apologize for disturbing you, but…”</p><p>“No, please.” Freya is standing before she realizes it. “If you have come here again, there must surely be a reason.”</p><p>“Yes.” Sara takes a deep breath, then strides toward the throne.</p><p>Her entire demeanor is different than Freya remembers it. Gone is the wary, ill-fed girl. Her gait is sure.</p><p>Sara stops before the lowest step and parts her cloak to kneel. Her dark leather hunting garb isn’t <em>new</em>, but it’s different from the last. Whole. Well-kept. As for Sara herself—where Freya remembers stubborn flesh barely clinging to bone, are healthy limbs with sturdy, shifting muscle.</p><p>Distracted, she forgets to tell Sara to rise.</p><p>“It’s my brother, Your Majesty. Sam is a sweet boy, with the kindest heart I’ve ever encountered. When he sings to welcome spring, the people in our village say he makes the flowers dance. He brings joy to all who meet him.” Sara pauses when her voice cracks. “And he is ill. He’s not even seen his eleventh winter, but he’s caught a fever that will not break.”</p><p>Freya frowns and hurries down the steps. She stops directly in front of Sara, who does not move. She takes a breath, then reaches a hand to cup Sara’s chin.</p><p>Sara’s head rises. Tears are pouring down her cheeks.</p><p>Something splinters in Freya’s chest. After a moment, she retrieves her hand. In her palm is a small collection of Sara’s sorrow. She bows her head, only to be surprised when some of her own falls.</p><p>She can’t remember the last time she’s cried.</p><p>“Rise, Sara. Do not prostrate yourself before me.”</p><p>Sara scrubs her face with the back of a hand, then stands up. “Please. Can you help me?”</p><p>It’s odd to Freya that, even on equal ground, her head still rises above Sara’s. She closes the hand holding their tears, then opens it. She reaches it out, palm up, to show Sara.</p><p>The tears have become a small, glittering crystal of ice. “Wrap this in linen and place it over his heart. It will not melt until his fever has broken.”</p><p>Without delay, Sara reaches for it.</p><p>Freya watches as she mindfully takes it between her thumb and forefinger.</p><p>“You did not ask the price.”</p><p>“Anything is worth his life. Even my own.”</p><p>“Be careful saying such things,” Freya retorts with a sigh. “The price is as before. You must share something only this gift will give you.”</p><p>Sara freezes, then meets Freya’s eyes. “My brother…?”</p><p>Freya finally smiles. “You said he is a singer? A song should suffice.”</p><p>Once again, Sara bows. “I promise we’ll come as soon as he is well enough to travel.”</p><p>The following week when Sam’s voice is echoing off the walls of the throne room, Freya very much believes that he can make flowers dance.</p><p>Sara smiles the entire time, and the splintering feeling returns to Freya’s chest</p><p>***</p><p>When she feels the presence the next time, she knows long before Sara steps foot in her prison. The time between visits is far shorter than the last. She doesn’t question how Sara has come to find her for a third time.</p><p>She watches the dark reaches of the cavern beyond the snow for what feels a small eternity.</p><p>“Sara,” she greets almost warmly. She’s standing at the bottom of the steps, not wanting Sara to prostrate herself like before.</p><p>Sara’s dark cloak is the same as her previous visit, the hood already lowered. Sara forces a smile, but her expression is grim. “Sam and I tried to visit you again, but I couldn’t find the cave.”</p><p>The small joy she’s felt in seeing Sara shifts to concern. “Then you must need something. Tell me, please.”</p><p>Sara rubs a hand over her hair, then quietly wanders closer. She stops several feet away and crosses her arms. “It’s been a difficult winter, but we were careful this autumn, and stored plenty. Not everyone in the land was so cautious. Hungry farmers and hunters have become brigands. They’ve been roaming closer and closer to our village.”</p><p>It’s then that Freya notices the bow she’d fixed years ago affixed to Sara’s back. A heavy quiver of arrows is dangling from her hip.</p><p>“I’m the best hunter in the village, but I’m no soldier. This might be the last time I visit. I just… wanted to see you. I needed to thank you for everything you’ve done. For me and my family.”</p><p>Something prickles in Freya’s chest. She grits her teeth, then moves forward. “Do you have a trinket of some sort? Something you keep with you at all times?”</p><p>Sara appears confused, but then hesitantly reaches up and pulls something out from under her cloak and leathers.</p><p>A round metal pendant, worn and grey, is now visibly dangling from a strip of leather around her neck. “Like this?”</p><p>“Yes.” Freya doesn’t wait. The pendant is in her hand before Sara can even think to remove it. With a quiet sigh, she leans forward and kisses it. The metal, warm from Sara’s body, feels like it burns her lips. She holds it in her hand a beat longer than she needs to; the edges of Sara’s cloak are touching the folds of her dress. It’s an odd sensation.</p><p>“Wear this close to your heart, and no weapon may inflict a mortal wound upon you while you defend your people.”</p><p>She takes a step back, but Sara’s hand cups the back of hers before she can drop the pendant.</p><p>“And the price?” Sara asks softly.</p><p>It isn’t a splintering this time, but a strong, cracking sensation that makes Freya’s chest hurt. She takes a breath. “You must share something only this pendant gives you.”</p><p>Sara’s thumb has begun rubbing the side of her hand. It’s… disturbing. She swallows and pulls her hand gently away.</p><p>“According to you, this pendant will give me my life.” Sara stares at her, an odd glint in her eye. “I will return after this is done and remain here with you.”</p><p>The thought makes Freya flinch. She can’t imagine Sara, so strong and warm and lively, stuck in her cold prison. “A visit should suffice.”</p><p>Sara stares at her a moment longer, and something changes in her expression. The grimness from before has returned. “I promise.”</p><p>When she leaves, the throne room seems colder than ever before.</p><p>***</p><p>Days pass, and Freya is unable to slip into any sort of magical sleep. It’s a vexing, confusing thing that she doesn’t understand. She roams the throne room restlessly, distracting herself by conjuring scenes in the snow.</p><p>Sometimes she can sit on her throne and doze. Every time she wakes, she knows it’s only been a mere passing of hours, rather than days or weeks.</p><p>Perhaps her magic has failed and the curse is punishing her for failing to keep her end of the bargain. If Sara has fallen in battle...</p><p>Nearly a fortnight after the last time she’s seen Sara, she feels her presence slowly progressing through the outer cavern. Freya paces this way and that, wondering what’s taken so long and how she should act.</p><p>Just before Sara makes the final turn that leads to the throne room, Freya calms herself. She stands quietly at the bottom of the steps.</p><p>Sara stops just inside the room. “Greetings, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Freya’s eyes roam over her form. The dark cloak is gone, replaced by a subdued brown one that hides most of Sara from inspection. “I have never told you this,” she says after a beat, “but I do not like my title.”</p><p>Sara is slow to react, her head dipping briefly. “Freya, then?”</p><p>“Yes. Please.” Freya extends a hand. “And, come closer. I would like to know everything. Did the attack come?”</p><p>“Three,” Sara admits as she begins ambling forward. There’s a slight hitch in her stride.</p><p>Freya frowns as Sara stops an arms’ length away. “<em>Three</em>? It’s no wonder you’ve been gone so long.”</p><p>Sara shoots her a peculiar look. “I came as quickly as I could. I would not break a promise, not intentionally.”</p><p>“That’s not,” Freya cuts herself off and takes a breath. “Sit with me a while.” She turns and indicates the bottom step.</p><p>“As My Lady wishes.” Sara holds out a hand so Freya can sit first, then follows suit much more slowly.</p><p>Freya watches her wince with a frown. “You’re injured.”</p><p>Sara’s wince strengthens into a grimace, then fades into a grin. Her grey-blue eyes seem to twinkle when she looks at Freya. “But I’m alive. The healer said I was lucky the blow wasn’t fatal.”</p><p>“Lucky,” Freya murmurs. She reaches a hand out to Sara’s cloak, stilling just before making contact. “May I?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>She doesn’t look up at Sara, instead gently tugging the cloak aside. There are no leathers today, merely a simple linen shirt and loose vest. Freya finds the hem of both and pulls up. Sara’s abdomen is covered in a large bandage, which has been looped numerous times around her belly. The streak of blotchy red that’s already leaked through makes Freya’s stomach twist.</p><p>“You should have taken more time to heal,” she accuses softly.</p><p>“It was difficult enough to stay in bed for seven days.”</p><p>Freya purses her lips, then delicately places a hand over the patch of red.</p><p>She feels Sara’s sudden inhale.</p><p>“My hands are cold, I apologize,” she says without looking up. Her brow furrows as she concentrates. Her hand glimmers, then returns to normal. “There. That should help things along.”</p><p>Sara sighs, and Freya finally looks up. She’s startled to find a forlorn expression on Sara’s face.</p><p>“And the price of this?” Sara asks gruffly.</p><p>Freya yanks her hands away and straightens her back. “There is none, do not worry. I should have used a stronger enchantment last time.” The twisting in her stomach is worse, and her chest has begun to hurt. “You do not have to be here any longer,” she says as she pushes up to stand.</p><p>Sara catches her arm before she can finish the movement. “Wait, no. That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>Not sure how she’s feeling (and not liking the uncertainty) Freya remains still. “Then what did you mean?”</p><p>“I don’t want you to think I came here for this. I don’t want you to think you must always give me something. I-I’d like to be friends, if you’d have me as such.”</p><p>Freya closes her eyes. Sara’s hand is still on her arm. The warmth it brings seems to intensify as it lingers, and so she pulls away before it can spread. She dons a half-smile and looks at Sara from under her lashes. “That’s not how this works, I’m afraid. Only the lost may come here. Once your needs have been met, the way will close.”</p><p>“May I still try?”</p><p>Sara looks so hopeful, so lovely, that Freya finds herself saying the opposite of what she should. “Yes.”</p><p>***</p><p>After that, Sara finds her way into the throne room twice a week. Freya isn’t sure how. She doesn’t want to know how. She fears that if she ever speaks of it, the way to her prison will close forever.</p><p>And, as twice a week becomes four times a week, then nearly every day, Freya realizes she never wants that to happen. Sleep is unappealing compared to visits with Sara.</p><p>Sara says, since fighting off the brigands, the visits with Freya have become her only source of peace. Where she had only been grudgingly accepted in the village before, she is now valued above most others.</p><p>When Sara’s cheeks flush as she admits this, something twinges in Freya’s belly. She laughs for what feels like the first time.</p><p>Sara’s eyes are bright when she begins to laugh along, too. Feeling light, Freya decides she loves the way it echoes off the walls.</p><p>The throne room doesn’t feel much like a prison anymore. As she catches her breath, she finds herself leaning into Sara’s side. Though taller than Sara by a few inches, she’s found the hunter’s strong, sturdy shoulder a comfortable place to rest her head.</p><p>“Truthfully,” Sara says once they’re both calm and still, “Sam has wanted to visit you again.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Unsure what to say, Freya remains silent.</p><p>“I’ve been selfish about it. I love coming here. I don’t know what would happen if I tried to bring someone else, and,” Freya can hear her audible swallow, “perhaps I am truly a terrible person.”</p><p>“Unlikely,” Freya says as she sits up so she can look at Sara.</p><p>Sara averts her eyes and releases a nervous chuckle. She plays with a loose string on the side of her trousers. “I do not wish to share you.”</p><p>Freya swallows and drops her gaze. It’s something she’s thought of countless times when Sara leaves. It’s not fair that random strangers can see Sara whenever they wish, just by virtue of living in the same village.</p><p>After that thought always comes another; those villagers are more suitable company for Sara anyway.</p><p>How odd they must seem next to one another, her in her blue-white gown decorated in snowflakes and ice, and Sara in her simple trousers and shirt. Freya isn’t where she is by accident. Though she doesn’t remember it, she must have done something terrible to come to live, cursed, in the Forgotten Mountain. The cracking in her chest is an ominous feeling.</p><p>She nudges her knee against Sara’s and ignores it. “I understand what you mean.”</p><p>The heaviness of the moment is too much to bear, especially when Sara lays a hand atop hers.</p><p>She sucks in a breath, then has a thought. Snow forms in her hand, and then she tosses it at Sara.</p><p>Sara yelps, then laughs as she wipes off her face. “No fair.”</p><p>“I thought you were some mighty hunter.” Freya raises her eyebrows.</p><p>“And so I am.” Sara grins, then a moment later she’s rolling toward the carpet of snow and gathering a bunch of it in her hand.</p><p>The throne room is full of laughter for hours.</p><p>Though her memory has faded, Freya is certain she’s never felt so happy in her life.</p><p>If something in her chest creaks a warning, she ignores it. No matter her past crimes, she’s allowed some happiness. Isn’t she?</p><p>Three days later, everything changes.</p><p>***</p><p>Freya has taken to greeting Sara at the very entrance of the throne room. She doesn’t admit that it’s because she’s so eager for Sara’s company (but she doubts it’s a secret).</p><p>As Sara rounds the last turn, Freya is already smiling.</p><p>“Sara,” she welcomes just like every other day.</p><p>Sara’s return smile is muted. “Freya.”</p><p>Perhaps the day has been difficult, Freya muses as she turns to fall into step with Sara. The sound of snow crunching under their feet seems unbearably loud as they make their way to the stairs.</p><p>Before they sit, Freya reaches out to touch Sara’s wrist. “Is something the matter?”</p><p>Sara purses her lips, then sits down with a grunt. “After a fashion.”</p><p>Freya quickly takes the spot next to her. “Please, tell me. As a friend. I will make no bargains if you do not wish for one.”</p><p>At that, Sara looks up and smiles crookedly. “Thank you.” She sighs and kicks her feet out. “Until recently, life in the village has always been somewhat difficult. Even though I was allowed into the hunt some ten years ago now, the men have always begrudged my company.”</p><p>“A grave mistake on their part.” Freya doesn’t know she’s frowning until Sara reaches out to smooth a thumb over her brow. She applauds herself for not leaning into the touch.</p><p>Sara chuckles, but her amusement doesn’t last. “Some of the other hunters were coming ‘round before our troubles with brigands. Now, well. It’s almost like having an even bigger family.” She breathes in slowly. “It’s far more than I ever could have anticipated. Which is why, I, I,” she swallows. “I didn’t expect anything… else.”</p><p>Freya’s frown returns. “Speak plainly.”</p><p>“One of the other hunters has asked for my hand in marriage.”</p><p>The world spins around Freya, though nothing actually seems to move. “Do you love him?”</p><p>Sara pauses. “Yes.”</p><p>It is no twinge or splinter or crack that Freya feels then, but rather a great, horrendous shattering in her chest. It takes her several moments to remember how to breathe, let alone speak. “Then why do you hesitate?”</p><p>Sara doesn’t say anything. “There is another I love, far deeper and greater... but they do not love me.”</p><p>Freya feels as if there is a great chasm where her heart should be. She wishes she could fall into it and forget everything else. Instead, she says, “I cannot help you with this, even should you wish it. But,” she searches Sara’s face, “whatever you decide, please let me know.”</p><p>Sara nods once, her face solemn. “I promise.”</p><p>***</p><p>Another three days pass. Freya is painfully aware of every single second it takes for her to feel Sara’s presence again. Many times, she’s wondered if it wouldn’t be a mercy if the way were to finally close.</p><p>She doesn’t get up as Sara progresses, ever steady, to the entrance of the throne room. No matter what Sara decides, it’s time for Freya to sleep again. She craves the simple oblivion of forgetting.</p><p>Knowing, remembering, is agony.</p><p>She feels Sara stop just outside but doesn’t move. Neither does Sara.</p><p>Finally, after as long as she can pretend that she’s alone, Freya opens her eyes.</p><p>With a frown, she jerks to her feet. Sara has remained outside, away from the soft comfort of the snow, on her knees.</p><p>“Sara! Get up!”</p><p>Sara doesn’t move.</p><p>The ache in Freya’s chest pulses. She grabs the sides of her dress and rushes down the stairs and across the room. An invisible force stops her before she can step into the cavern. “Sara, please.” Her chest heaves as Sara remains looking down. “You’re scaring me.”</p><p>Finally, Sara looks up at her. Grey-blue eyes are kind, but sad, as they search Freya’s face. “I could not accept his proposal.”</p><p>It is impossible for Freya to be happy when Sara looks so forlorn. “I’m sorry. Please, come in.”</p><p>Sara shakes her head. “No, I… the truth is, I have a confession.” She glances down and sighs. “I know exactly why I can come see you every day, Freya.”</p><p>Freya hunches her shoulders and crosses her arms. She’s not sure she wants to hear the rest. Sara is keeping her distance on purpose. She does not want Freya’s help.</p><p>“The reason the way has not shut, why I can still find you in this forgotten place, Freya… the truth is, I am lost without you. I know you do not wish to be bound to me, but if you would allow it, I would still come see you every day.” Their eyes connect, and Sara doesn’t wipe at the tears that trickle steadily down her face. “Until you no longer wish it, or my body fails me.”</p><p>The sundering in her chest is immeasurable and louder than thunder. The mountain shudders once around them as Freya gasps and presses both hands over her heart.</p><p>She doesn’t realize she’s crying, too, until Sara is in front of her, brushing them away and mumbling, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”</p><p>Freya allows herself to be wrapped up in Sara’s arms, but she shakes her head when the apologies spill out. “No. No, Sara. I would never wish this curse upon my worst enemy. You have gravely misunderstood me.”</p><p>Sara sucks in a breath, then tightens her arms around Freya’s back. “Then tell me, please. Speak plainly.”</p><p>Freya flings her arms around Sara’s shoulders and buries her face low against the soft column of her neck. It takes several attempts for her to find her voice again. “I love you, Sara.”</p><p>Without warning, Sara scoops her up and spins around. “You love me?!”</p><p>Laughing, Freya slaps her shoulder. “Stop!”</p><p>Sara immediately does so.</p><p>Suddenly flooded with too many feelings—this moment means change, and change is terrifying—she takes comfort in the pure joy in Sara’s expression. She cups the side of Sara’s face. “Before you celebrate. I have to tell you—I will not have you here. I will not have you living here like this, if anyone can claim this to be living. But,” she swallows. “I have a feeling that if I take your hand today, we could leave together. If you free me, there is no return. I will become mortal, and unable to grant your wishes.”</p><p>Sara smiles slowly. “It would be my greatest honor if you would allow me to grant some of yours.”</p><p>“And if I were to say that I wish to leave here, and you as well?”</p><p>Sara firms her jaw but doesn’t look away. “Then I will free you, and you’ll never have to see me again.” Fresh tears slip down her cheeks, but she smiles. “Though I would ask that you allow me to provide you with provisio—”</p><p>Freya interrupts her with a kiss. She means it to be quick, but she has never felt anything as divine as Sara’s lips against hers. When she speaks again, her voice is low. “And if I should like to see you every morning when I wake up, and have you next to me every night as I sleep?”</p><p>“Then I will be there, every day that I can be, ‘til the end of my days. I promise.”</p><p>Feeling as if she could fly, Freya tangles their fingers together and draws Sara close for another kiss. It feels even better than the first.</p><p>They rest their heads together for a moment. Finally, Freya takes a deep breath and turns. She keeps a firm hold of Sara’s hand.</p><p>The first hesitant step out is anticlimactic, and they share a laugh of relief. They traverse the cavern in silence, hand-in-hand.</p><p>Eventually, the mouth of the cave opens to reveal a sea of stars that glitter and shine with their own sort of magic. Freya stares up in wonder, then grins when Sara takes her hand. “I’d forgotten what the night sky looks like.” Sara squeezes her hand. With a last lingering look at the stars, she returns her attention to Sara. She gently clears her throat. “As it turns out, I’m quite hungry.”</p><p>And Sara laughs, a deep belly laugh that carries through the night. She leans into Freya to give her a kiss. “Then it’s good that I’m a hunter.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In case you're wondering, I actually do know how the curse came to be, and who cast it. I just didn't feel like there was an organic place to insert that into the story without it feeling info dumpy. :3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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